


All The Kings Men

by Tonysporks



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: 10/10 would fuck, FUCKING SHIT, I'm nice, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M, Tony Angst, Tony Has Issues, Tony vs Responsibility, Worth It, and by down south I mean butts, but then!, haha jk that would be evil, honestly wheres my grammy, if tony stark had a sassy white subconcious, im so bad at this, no everyone dies, quality person right here, shit does down south eventually, tony dun goofed, was it really worth it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-03 21:49:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1757827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tonysporks/pseuds/Tonysporks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>all he wants is just four minutes just four fucking minutes to himself--fuck the god of mischief. <br/>What about the god of personal time ok? What happened to that god? how come nobody wants to give any loving to the god of personal time?<br/>you know what tony could  do with four minutes? he could make that 3 minute macaroni and cheese shit, he could make those three minute ramen noodles, he could cure some fucked disease, he could masturbate, he could paint a picture of a dolphin; the list is endless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. fuck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LulaMadison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaMadison/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Remembrance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/291046) by [LulaMadison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaMadison/pseuds/LulaMadison). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony never could say no to that face.

Tony was watching Pepper yell at him from across the room, watching rather than listening because well; he definitely wasn’t listening.  
She's waving her hands around to make a point, whatever point shes trying to make anyway and her eyebrows are furrowed into tired lines that seem vaguely upset but for the most part disappointed. Tony's not listening because he just now noticed the way Pepper's head shakes every time she gets upset and the way her bangs flick from side to side along with her. It's fitting, it's endearing. He only ever snaps out of it when he realizes she'd already stopped talking and is now waiting for some feedback, some input, a sad one liner, anything. Pepper's hands are at her hips and she's staring at Tony expectantly, the only noise being made now is the faint ticking of her watch thats only just loud enough for you to hear in complete silence and its thudding constantly in the background while Tony thinks of something to say that won't result in death. No, he'd like to stay alive for quite some time, thanks. Pepper fills the silence in herself  
"Tony, you're doing this, all of this for a reason, a good reason." She gestured loosely to the ceiling with her hands then let them fall to her sides while she spoke. "This isn't like before, this is right now. You're new and improved and you're making this so much harder than it has to be."  
Her words spun on a string, a very thin, very worn, piece of string. It was holding...barely, but it was there. If Tony didn't care so damn much about her he would have sent her away hours ago; but he couldn't. Not then, not now, most likely not ever. It'd be like telling your mother to go fuck herself, it has its ups and downs. On one hand she'd probably stop talking yeah..for a good 2.5 milliseconds she's going to spend thinking up ways to hide your body cause you've just conveniently died somehow. No, Tony would like to stay alive for just a bit longer, thanks.   
She's talking about S.H.I.E.L.D's little compromise of course. They need Tony to design something specifically made to take down Loki, not kill him or anything but it has to have enough power to at least knock him out long enough to get him to proper containment. A gun, a dart, a whole butt load of liquid laxatives? (He knows that last one won't work but Clint mentioned it and it made him laugh). Tony turned his attention back to Pepper quick enough to notice her swiper her tongue across her bottom lip; anxious maybe, he wouldn't be surprised. She's been standing in the middle of his office trying to get him to agree for the past three hours and Tony hasn't uttered a single word so its only natural for her to jump back a bit when she hears him make a noise other than his usual disapproving snort.  
"Fine. Fine. You want a weapon? I'll make you a weapon."  
And thats how he ended up here, buried to his knees in scrap metal, running only on coffee and sheer will for the past 72 hours. Of course Pepper would come down to the shop every once in a while to check on him and feed him and drag his futon downstairs just in case Tony ever decided he was human and needed sleep to stay sane. Well.. sane-er.  
He'd get his daily call from Fury asking for his usual progress report served with a smile and cocky undertone. He'd send him pictures of whatever he had that day but Tony's seriously considering using that futon because he was way too close to accidentally sending Fury that picture of Pepper dressed up in Natasha's suit and that would also, eventually, lead to his immediate death.  
Tony was just about done now, building it is the easy part; the hard part is figuring out how to make it work. He had Thor cooped up under his scanner for a full eight hours trying to get a feel on his vitals. Thor was basically a puppy, be it a big hairy puppy but a puppy none the less. He'd done little else but stand there with the same stoic expression while Tony poked and prodded at the literal godsend before him. Even after he had his results he still needed to do some minor last minute calculations because lets be serious, Thor is a big boy and Loki--Loki is like that kid that Thor would punch for lunch money except as a twist in his freetime, Loki practices as a part time magician with some first class connections so theres a good chance that the effects won't be exactly the same but Tony’s not striving for perfection anyway, if anything he’s aiming for a category in between efficient and just barely systematic.  
Its only when his eyelids suddenly get too heavy too keep open and he’s been blinking from one eye for the past thirty minutes that he decides to call it a night, or a day, or even more fitting; a week. His back is aching and he’s pretty sure his vision went monochrome at one point and he’s only ninety two percent positive he’s still functional and you can't exactly go returning your Tony Starks for a new one at your local target every time yours breaks. If that were the case he would have been replaced approximately sixty three times by now.  
With that thought Tony sinks into his makeshift bed and sinks as far in as the floor will take him. His chest feels tight and the sensations nearly unbearable tonight but he's too tired to care; he's got a long day ahead of him. He'll consider it a success as long as you know, no one dies and he still has his fingers and toes at the end of it.


	2. retrograde

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've all had no longer than maybe four hours of sleep, two for Tony. So how is it? /how is it/. That Steve still sounds like the same bitch he is with a full ten hours of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha u guys remember when I said I'd have the second chapter up in a week. I'm hilarious as fuck.

There's a groan brewing at the back of Tony's throat when he wakes up the next morning. How many more times he needs to wake up in random places before Pepper has a fucking tracking device installed in his brain, he doesn't know; the number's probably somewhere around three.

He's confused mostly, because he vividly remembers passing out in the workshop and theres no way  Pepper dragged him upstairs, not with that upper body strength, she can only just barely do two pull ups let alone drag his ass upstairs. In fact, she is more likely to draw a dick on his face then put the effort into dragging his ass upstairs. Its the thought of Pep with some grossly buff arms, throwing Tony over her shoulder and dragging him up the stairs like a picture perfect representation of she-hulk that makes him laugh a little despite the situation.

He's about to get up from bed when he hears a small voice whine his name from the behind him. The voice is too high pitched to belong to Pepper and too peppy to be Natasha so thats at least one way to die he's never going to experience. Thin arms wrap around his waist to pull him closer and Tony doesn't dare move, his shoulders have already tensed up. Theres only one female in the entire world that would have agreed to meet with him at that time of night. At any time of night. Another mewl at his side and Tony's shivering.

"Tony.." She's purring, she's actually purring. Humans can't purr so why in the love of jesus fuck is she purring. Goddammit drunk Tony. Why would you do this.  She's running a finger down his chest and circling the arc reactor like the rim of a wine glass and Tony's this close to either crying or committing seppuku because he's suddenly sick to his stomach and he just can't picture a scenario that might have led to this.

How? He's even curious. He remembers getting up from his desk and sauntering over to the mattress Pepper had laid out for him. He remembers looking up at the ceiling and having some sort of inner conflict about how cheese whizz works and ultimately closing his eyes and falling asleep so, How? Her voice chimes in again.

"You up for round two, Tiger?" Her fingers mimic claws and now she's growling but it sounds more like a Cat choking on three weeks worth of flem. He's starting to wonder whether or not he's been drugged and or raped when he lets out a pathetic noise that sounds like a mix between a cry for help and a whimper of defeat. "I--"

He's about to answer when his phone rings and Tony decides that if theres a god out there, he loves him.

He fumbles around for his phone and doesn't care much when his 'guest' lets out a huff of annoyance. It's not like she's unattractive, really It's the opposite, she's stunning but she is also stunningly annoying and creepy. She's like that stale end piece of bread that nobody wants so you try to toss it to the side and feed it to the ducks and at first they're interested but then they spend some time with it and they're like, the fuck is this? That is the exact description of this woman and there is no other way he'd like to put it.

Tony answers the phone but he doesn't even get to finish his signature greeting before Fury's shitting out orders and Tony has never been more happy to serve his country than in that moment.  He'll figure out how he ended up here some other time. They've all been waiting patiently for Loki to show his face somewhere, be it sipping martinis down at seaside,mooning elderly citizens, blowing up the goddamn president or whatever it is that Loki even wants to do; He doesn't really do much research on these things.

He gets to his feet without the slightest bit of hesitance. He doesnt say goodbye to the woman laying on his bed  and he doesn't bother hiding his junk from her line of sight, the damage has already been done, no take backs. It doesn't take him long to get ready either, not that he's in a hurry or anything.

Tony's staring at himself in the mirror while he smooths out his hair with the flat of his palms and douses himself in whatever cologne he has lying around, he doesn't know why he bothers though, it won't make the smell of depression and manual labor any less noticeable; but hey, what can he say? He's a classy guy, so if he wants to smell like a mix between abercrombie & fitch and your local gym, so be it.

Tony decides then, that he's taking a vacation after this whole Loki thing blows over, he's got enough shit on his plate as it is. Anymore stress and he'll not only pop a blood vessel but he'll have an aneurysm, and like most outcomes, die. no thanks.

****  
  


If you know Tony, then you know that he makes it an effort to be fashionably late all the time; whether it be by the minute or by the hour; In this case he was going for minutes. Any earlier and he'd lose his stunning record of punctuality, any later and he'd probably lose his genetalia and surprise, surprise. He kinda needs those--like on a daily basis.

Tony's out the door in a minute and in the air in a second. In the distance he can see flashes of green and he can already hear people screaming; which seriously, why even bother anymore. This is like the fifth time, you'd think they would be used to it by now. If Tony didn't have this moral obligation of you know--saving the world, he'd probably be sitting on the roof of the tower with a bowl of caramel corn in his lap and his feet dangling. Mostly because regular popcorn is over-rated and Tony likes living his life on the edge sometimes.  haha literal edge. Pretty frequently now that he's thinking about it. He should probably do something about that...but will he really? Not likely, no.

Tony might have actually forgotten what he was doing if not for the voice yelling in his ear. They've all had no longer than maybe four hours of sleep, two for Tony. So how is it? how is it. That Steve still sounds like the same bitch he is with a full ten hours of sleep. Thats the real question.


End file.
